


Love and Warfare

by littleblue_eyedbird



Series: Singer of Dreams [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Solavellan - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Dragon Age Inquisition, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Gang Wars, Gang warfare, Mage Rebellion, Mage Rights, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, there will be descriptions of blood and violence in later chapters--I'll mark them!, underworld warfare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4576563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblue_eyedbird/pseuds/littleblue_eyedbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thedas is set in a modern day metropolis, fraught with underworld gang warfare and Chantry control. Sulenera Lavellan, leader of the Daughters of Mythal and loyal member of The "Pantheon", is about to fall into one of the biggest gang wars in the history of Thedas; sparked by none other than the infamous vigilante, Fen'Harel. Will Thedas fall into chaos or will order be restored? Will Lavellan be able to emerge victorious, or will she become the next victim of the Dread Wolf?</p><p>All is fair in love and war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sigil

Sulenera Lavellan had been midway through shelving her groceries when she heard the reporter’s voice interrupt the show Sera was watching with breaking news:

_“Chantry officials are actively investigating the latest defacement of property performed by the underworld vigilante, Fen’Harel.”_

She nearly dropped the carton of eggs in her hands at the sound of the Dread Wolf’s name. She spun on her heel leaving the eggs on the counter and the fridge agape as she sped towards the island Sera was perched on. In one smooth movement, she hoisted herself up to sit beside Sera. The T.V. was visible from the small living room attached to their relatively small kitchen, which made their kitchen island a prime spot to lounge on. Sulenera pursed her lips as the camera panned up the front steps of the renowned art museum in the western sector of the city. The shot continued to roll up past the intricate double doors, revealing the menacing sigil of the Dread Wolf glowing in brilliant shades of red and black on the giant window above the grand entrance.  Looping lines combined with drastic angles coalesced together to create the wolf’s head, with its mouth split open in feral smile. Sulenera noted that the line art was spray painted impeccably.

_“As you can see, the vandal has inscribed his infamous “Wolf” insignia, the telltale sign of the Dread Wolf’s handiwork.”_

 A twinge of jealousy ran through Sulenera, her line art was good, but it was nothing in comparison to Fen’Harel’s.

_“Thus far we have no witnesses or leads concerning the motives of this vandalized property graffitied by the mysterious masked man posing as an ancient elven deity. Was this a lone act of rebellion as we’ve seen countless times before, or perhaps a deeper connected networking attempt by the Pantheon? More news as the situation develops at 11—“_

“Oh boy, more news about elfy shite. They mentioned your gang specifically this time,” came the muffled, sarcastic response from Sera, who was downing a bowl of cereal.

“This…is not good,” Sulenera mused, her brow creasing as she considered the jolting news. The phone in her pocket began vibrating.

 “Are you workin’ wit him now then?”

“Hmm,” she pulled the phone out and looked at the caller, _Falon’Din_.

“With the Dread Wolf, please tell me yer not. Andraste’s tits, ‘Era I swear…”

“We’re not. This wasn’t planned.” The phone kept buzzing, incessantly. “I have to take this.”

“Lemme guess, your lead callin’ you in, yeah?”

“Hah, he wishes,” she said before hoping off the island and heading out to her room, shelving the eggs and closing the fridge on the way.

“It’s the ex, inint,” Sera bellowed from the kitchen.

Sulenera rolled her eyes as she pressed the accept call button, “Nydhis, I saw the report.”

“This could not have come at a worse time,” an aggravated deep voice huffed from the other end of the call.  “Of course the fucking Dread Wolf would intervene the day of our big raid.”

Sulenera snapped at him. “Did you honest expect anything less of him?” 

“He’s forcing our hand!”

Once in her room, Sulenera threw open her closet. She grabbed her enchanted leather vest, sheer black long sleeve shirt, and sturdy boots. She slipped the knee-high boots over her foot wraps and laced them up as she continued to talk.

“That’s kind of his thing. He allies with no one and meddles in _everyone’s_ affairs.  Pantheon affiliated or not. It just so happens he’s turned his attention on us this time. It was bound to happen again.”

“Do not remind me of last time,” Nydhis quipped, clearly still sore about what happened a few months prior.

Sulenera smirked, knowing he couldn’t see her. Fen’Harel single handedly thwarted the gang Nydhis controlled, the order of Falon’Din, in their vain attempt to expand territory. Fen’Harel claimed Falon’din’s order was not ready for that kind of expansion.

“Fine, I won’t rub it in. Just remember, his motives are never clear. We don’t know for sure if he’s forcing us into anything. He could be sending us a warning. Never underestimate him, and never assume you know what he’s up to.”

“Yeah, yeah. Ever true to the trickster lore,” he grumbled over the line, “stop defending him, he’s not our friend.”

“I’m not defending him.”

Sulenera would never admit it to Nydhis’ face, but the Dread Wolf had been right to stop him. She had tried to talk Nydhis down from his power trip, but he wouldn’t listen to her, or reason. They still hadn’t resolved the issues that had led to their messy break up, so most conversations between them were strained to begin with. Sulenera was surprised that he even reached out to her now; they still were not on the best of terms. Old habits die hard she supposed.

It took the intervention of Fen’Harel to finally humble him and his order. Nydhis and his loyal gang members devoted to Falon’Din weren’t ready for that kind of power play. Not yet. And everyone could see it except for them. Fen’Harel was there to prevent him from failing, even if Nydhis couldn’t see it that way

“Do you think Elgar’nan will still have us move tonight,” Nydhis said, interrupting Sulenera’s lingering thoughts on the Dread Wolf.

“My honest answerm” Sulenera sighed, “is yes. I think he will. This display is only going to piss him off.”

After a beat, he addressed her properly, “Prepare your daughters then, Mythal.”

“I’ll worry about mine, you worry about yours, Falon’din. See you at the crossroads”

The line clicked off and Sulenera sent out a mass message to her Daughters of Mythal before pocketing her sleek phone. She finished dressing her gear and grabbed a silver cylindrical staff grip off a wall hanger, hooking it onto her belt. She caught her reflection in the floor length mirror beside her bed.

Her leather leggings clung snugly to her thighs, thick with muscle. She admired the way her all black gear contrasted with her white vallaslin, the branching lines of the all-mother spreading across her forehead, cheeks, and chin. She also liked the way her gear seemed to compliment her figure, even if it wasn’t intended.

She quickly raked her fingers through the golden waves of her hair, pulling it back to reveal the shaved sides of her head. She was about to pin it back, but couldn’t find any of her pins. _Damnit,_ she thought, as her sharp emerald eyes searched the top of her dresser. _I must have left them backstage at work._ She let her hair cascade back down as she made a mental note to stop at the speakeasy at some point the next day. She yanked her maroon cloak off the back of her bedroom door before closing it shut, returning to the kitchen. She saw Sera strapping a quiver of arrows on her back when she entered.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sulenera asked, crossing her arms.

“Goin’ wit you, duh.”

“Sera since when did you become interested in Pantheon affairs. I don’t know if they’ll let you stay.”

“Wot, can’t get in if I’m not part of the gang?”

“Well, technically yes. That’s a requirement.”

“But yer like one of the big people in the damn thing! And besides, don’t want you goin’lone. ”

Sulenera knew bring Sera with her to a pantheon gathering when everyone was strung out by Fen’Harel’s public warning sign would only further add to the chaos that meeting would be in, but judging by the look on Sera’s face, she wasn’t leaving without her. And Sera had a point; Sulenera was a leader in the Pantheon, her being Mythal and all.

“Fine.”

Exiting her apartment, she took a sharp left towards the stairwell. She heard Sera following closely behind.

“So let me get this, you lead yer own gang of little people, but your almost the leader of another?”

“Sera I’ve explained how the Pantheon operates to you before.”

“Yeah but it was boring and elfy and _we were eating,_ ” Sera said dramatically.

Sulenera shouldered open the door to the stairwell and began the five floor descent down to the ground level. It couldn’t hurt to explain it to her one more time.

“Yes, I am the second in command of the “Pantheon”, the order that organizes and oversees all the elven gangs in the undercity. Our titles are assigned by which gang we are in charge of. For example, because I lead the Daughters of Mythal, the order dedicated to the ways of justice and protection, I am referred to as Mythal.”

Sulenera paused her speech to see if Sera was paying attention, but continued to move down the stairs at a rapid pace. For once Sera actually was. Perhaps the Fen’Harel scare was enough catch Sera’s interest after all.

“There is one gang dedicated to every elven God, and the gang leaders are given the title of the God their order represents within the Pantheon, except for Fen’Harel. Who operates alone, and has done so since before the Pantheon’s formation. You follow?”

They reached the bottom of the stairwell and slipped out into the evening twilight. Sulenera pulled her vest tighter to fight off the crisp autumn chill that had settled in.

“Sounds complicated. So you’re Mythal, someone is Elgar’nan, and someone else is Ghilan’nain and so on? And they each have their order of little people. Kind of like the Jennies, but more organized.” Sera pursed her lips as amusement flashed in her eyes, “Which one does your ex-man thing lead?”

Sulenera rolled her eyes at the change of subject as they turned a corner, “His name is Nydhis, he leads the Order of Falon’Din. And it’s _ex-mate_ , thank you.”

“Weird. Was Elgar’nan pissed you dated Falon’Din?” Sera cackled, speeding up to match Sulenera pace as they headed downtown.

“We don’t follow the lore _that_ closely Sera.”

Sera followed Sulenera to the entrance to the subway and descended down a few steps behind.

“So why are we takin’ the subway? I thought the Crossroads was in the fade?”

“We’re not actually taking the subway, I know a shortcut to the fade through the tunnels here,” Sulenera replied, weaving her way through the night crowd waiting for their trains to take them away.

The fade was the slang name given to the undercity by its inhabitants, located in lower bowls in the city of Thedas. All gangs had their headquarters deep in the pits beneath the world above.  Sulenera made her way to the edge of the track and hopped down. Her cloak, a deep blood red in low lighting, billowed behind her.

“Wot are you DOING,” Sera squeaked, but still jumped down after her a half a second later.

“Just follow me and stay close to the wall”

The two elves slunk the shadows of the subway tunnel, following the barely lit track for a few hundred feet. Abruptly, Sulenera dipped away into a crevice in the wall. Sera peered in after but even with the enhanced vision that came with being an elf, she couldn’t see anything. She recognized the aura emanating from the sliver in the wall; it reeked of the magical presence of the fade.

“I can’t see shite.” An involuntary shiver wracked through the rogue, she never had liked venturing into the fade. Magic creeped her out, and going into all mage gang meeting was beginning to seem less and less like a great idea. “On second thought, I’m not going in.”

Veilfire abruptly burst forth from an outstretched palm, causing Sera to flinch. She could make out Sulenera’s features through the dancing green firelight. With a nod of her head, Sulenera beckoned Sera to follow her.

‘Nah, I’ll stand guard.”

“Suit yourself. Stay in the shadows.”

“Yeah wotever Mom,” Sera snarked, drawing her bow from her back and prepared to knock an arrow.

When she didn’t get a chiding response from her jest like she usually did from Sulenera, Sera cast a glance behind her at the foreboding crevice. She watched as Sulenera’s glowing light slipped further and further away down the dark alley until it blinked out entirely.

“Jus’ go’n’come back in one piece, yeah,” she called out as an after-thought, biting her lip as worry began to sink into her gut.

\---

Sulenera didn’t actually need the veilfire to maneuver the tunnels leading into the fade. She knew a majority of the passageways by heart but the flames were a calming sight. The pull of magic in this area was a welcoming sensation; she could feel the mana in her reacting to the raw power of the place. The undercity had been the meeting grounds and haven for apostates for hundreds of years, before the Templars began raiding it. In order to combat the Chantry purge of mages, gangs formed. Mages and non-magical supporters banded together to fight back, united by a common purpose, their strength in numbers forced the Chantry to abandon their efforts of cleansing the undercity. To this day, the Chantry still has not been able to take over the pits beneath the city. The magical presence of so many apostates and their warfare permanently left an imprint.

The gangs now had full and total control of the fade, each one controlling a certain sector. The Pantheon’s headquarters, the Crossroads, lay in one of the most defensible positions; with secret tunnels connecting to each individual elven gang’s hideouts. Perhaps the most defensible quarters belonged to The Carta, the oldest gang in the undercity, run by the dwarves. They controlled the drug trade in and out of Thedas, and were constantly caught in skirmishes with the Templars. Though the Templars don’t dare venture beneath the city anymore. As of late, the gangs started pushing their agendas above ground causing large amounts of unrest. Bloody confrontations were occurring more frequently as the Chantry cracked down on their politics, a growing discontent was spreading through people, of all backgrounds and classes alike. Sulenera couldn’t help but be curious at Fen’Harel’s decision to mark a surface building. He must have wanted to set _everyone_ , above and below, on edge. But _why_?

After a few more feet down the cramped alley, Sulenera stopped and pressed her free hand against an elven rune that had been burned into the stone surface of the wall. It lit up when it reacted to her mana. The stones began dissolving away, revealing a grand archway into a regal chamber. Sulenera stepped through and heard the stones reassembling themselves behind her. She strode with a graceful gait into the regal hall, admiring all of the elven architecture in the vaulted ceiling. She gazed at all of the artwork and artifacts they had “procured” through the years, adorning various spots within the ante chamber. Sulenera would never grow tired of staring at the beautiful elven history they had restored in the crossroads. Eight statues of the ancient elven gods loomed in the distance, behind eight thrones posed in a semi-circle their feet. In the center of the room was an embellished wooden table that held glimmering holograms of territories and gang movements hovering above the tabletop. Five elves stood around it pointing and arguing loudly.

On the far left stood a lean, dark skinned woman with gold ink in the shape of Dirthamen’s vallaslin etched onto her face. Long black hair was pulled back in braids that fell to her hips, revealing that she had shaved the sides of her head, like Sulenera. Her features were sharp; her glittering amber eyes were surveying the argument like a bird of prey would stalk its victim before striking. Her twin stood aside her, but his face bore the golden marks of Falon’din. Sulenera always thought Nydhis and his twin looked uncannily similar.

Her eyes shifted to the next elf. Sulenera almost barked a laugh at the sharp contrast between Ghilan’nain and the two that followed before her. She was petite and lithe; her sun-kissed skin had a splash of freckles that littered her young, heart-shaped face. Her silky white hair the color fresh snow was swept back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, leaving wisps to frame her face. Etched on her forehead was Ghilan’nain’s vallaslin.

Ghilan’nain kept looking from Falon’din to the woman yelling at him directly on her left. The two seemed to be really going at it fiercely. The woman arguing with Falon’din came as no surprise to Sulenera. Andruil was known for her flippant temper. She had shocking red hair that fell in loose curls past a wide set of shoulders, two small braids formed a crown around her head. She was rippling with muscle and towered over Ghilan’nain by several inches. It was almost as if lighting danced in her stormy grey eyes every time she raised her voice in protest to whatever Falon’din had been firing at her. The last woman on the end of the table was also silent and observing like Dirthamen. She glanced over at Sulenera teal eyes that matched her Sylaise vallaslin.  Her lips quirked into a smirk and rolled her eyes at the arguing pair,

“Arguing, as usual,” muttered Sulenera to Sylaise, who murmured in agreement as she approached the feuding elves.

“What could this possibly mean? Did Fen’Harel mean to set the Orlesians into chaos,” said Ghilan'nain, attempting to interrupt the feud.

“He wants to raid the museum for himself, we should take him out,” Andruil declared, curls shaking violently as she gestured with a sweeping motion.

“What if he’s trying to tell us something?” Ghilan’nain tried again, pleading with Andruil.

“Bullshit, when has he ever tried to help us before?” Falon’din countered.

“He saved your dumbass three months ago from the most ill-conceived plot to steal territory from the Vints!”

“I told you to fucking drop that Andruil, it happened, it’s over. We’ve moved on." Falon’din’s sharp reply was nearly a shout.

Andruil opened her mouth to fire back a retort but was promptly cut off by Sulenera.

“Enough!” Sulenera shouted over the bickering elves at the table, radiating her aura out dropping the temperature below freezing, commanding the attention of the room. “We will get nothing done with petty arguing.”

Once all eyes had been turned on her, Sulenera spread her arms out allowing her enchanted clothing to ignite and swirl with bright motes of light, transforming her vest into an elven metal breastplate and enhancing her boots with metal plates. Dragon horns spiraled out of her golden hair completing the transformation.

“Where is Elgar’nan?” Sulenera demanded, crossing her arms as frost crept over the edges of the table.

As if on cue, the double doors directly behind Falon’din burst open, and two male elves already in their enchanted armor strode in.

“This alters nothing. We move as planned, Fen’Harel be damned,” the man bearing the all-father’s vallaslin stated with a gesture to his comrade beside him, clearly annoyed with the situation.

“Is that truly wise, Elgar’nan?” June said, easily keeping up with him, “I will not lie, the situation is unsettling but….” he trailed off as they walked over to take their places around the table.

 “I also worry about the Dread Wolf’s motives….what angle is he working!?” Elgar'nan fists slammed on the table, causing the holographic movements to waver in their projections. “We’ve been planning this job for weeks, we aren’t going to abandon it now. We will just have to prepare for his interference.” His brows furrowed in anger as his eyes raked over the holograms on the table. “Somehow he found out about our plans, most likely through loose ends we forgot to eliminate.”

Sulenera turned her attention to the table, gang territory lines were lit up on the surface. Various markers mapped out gang movements and hot zones with on-going warfare. The Carta’s activity levels were on slightly above normal, seemingly unphased compared to the other gangs whose activity levels were buzzing. None more so than Orlais, the gang ran by the direct descendants of the ancient civilization of Orlais. The Orlesian’s activity was ablaze. The source seemed to be infighting, according to their designated markers fighting themselves on the display thanks to Dirthamen’s spies.

“Whatever his motives are, could they have been aimed at Orlais and not us? What else would cause such a mess?”

Ghilan’nain had brought up Orlais again, Sulenera noted.

“It appears the sigil set off a civil war within the gang,” Sulenera pointed out three different colored markers, studying their activity intently. “Three factions are vying for power.”

“I wonder why the sigil sent them into frenzy, when it was clearly painted on our target,” Dirthamen commented, "it clearly was meant for us.”

“Maybe, Maybe not. Perhaps Fen’Harel wanted to mess with both the Pantheon and Orlais,” June proposed, “but what eludes me is for what purpose?”

The elves broke out in loud chatter again; arguing over one another, trying to solve the meaning behind Fen’Harel’s bold move. The din of voices grew loud and echoed off the walls. Sulenera reached out and placed a firm hand on Elgar’nan’s shoulder, pulling him out of heated discussion with Andruil and Falon’din. Sulenera guided him off to the side for a private conversation.

“Allow me to--,” 

“No, we will not appeal to him Mythal,” Elgar'nan said, cutting her off.

“I will talk to him, not appeal.” Sulenera tried again with a lilting voice laced with poison, “If you still want to go ahead with our raid, you’re going to need someone to distract him. You need me.”

Sulenera observed Elgar’nan’s reaction. He was considering it.

She was no stranger to Fen’Harel, to much of the Pantheon’s disapproval. They didn’t trust him and with good reason. His past actions often hindered and foiled their jobs, raids, and plans. But on the other hand, his movements against other gangs and Chantry organizations alike opened opportunities for the Pantheon that they took for granted. Sulenera and Fen’Harel have had many encounters in the past. She wouldn’t call what they had between them an alliance per se, it was more akin to a mutual understanding and respect. They had their own secret agenda; they would meet, discuss movements, give hints to one another about future activities, and part ways.

But in the last year or so, Fen’Harel had taken on more of a mentoring role, altering the dynamic of their relationship. He gave advice and insight that often was crucial to the success of Sulenera’s personal raids with her Daughters of Mythal, as well as the Pantheon’s. Sulenera would not deny that he helped the elves on several occasions, even if it was indirect and twisted in some way. Sulenera was confident she could get some idea of his plans or at least steal his attention long enough for her people to strike as safely as they could tonight.

“I’ve already alerted my daughters, my second has got them stationed and ready," Sulenera added, watching the resignation fall across Elgar’nan’s features.

Elgar’nan exhaled, “Fine. Go to him. Find out what he wants and report back immediately to me. I’ll quell this and prepare them to move.” He nodded in the direction of the feuding elves. He turned his searing blood orange eyes back to lock with Sulenera’s.

“He most likely is expecting you anyway," he stated with a tone of displeasure.

“Most likely.” 

She offered him a cold, tight lipped smile.

“Be wary, Mythal. You do not need me to lecture you on my distaste for the Dread Wolf, and I know your relationship with him is more than what you claim it to be. Know that I vehemently do not approve.” His stern tone attempted to mask his brewing anger, but Sulenera knew Elgar’nan too well and saw through his guise.

“Know that your approval of my relationship with him is not needed, nor appreciated.” She made sure to let the ice slide into her voice as she asserted herself.

Elgar’nan’s eyes flashed with fury for a split second before he took a breath to calm himself. 

“Dareth, Mythal,” he said through gritted teeth as a parting statement, and turned sharply away to the table. Sulenera fled from the fray of the hall and made her way back out into the fade, leaving a trail of frost in her wake.

 ---

Sera gasped as hand rested on her shoulder. Sulenera had slipped out of the crevice in the wall without her noticing.

“Maker’s breath ‘Era. You move like shadows. Wot’s goin’ on?”

A devious smile crept across Sulenera’s face.

“We’re going to let the Dread Wolf catch our scent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven translations (taken from the Dragon Age Wiki):
> 
> Dareth-be safe  
> \------------
> 
> Next chapter you'll meet Fen'Harel >:)
> 
> feedback is always welcome!


	2. Friendly Acquaintances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sulenera seeks out council with the Dread Wolf

“We’re WHAT!”

Sera's face bore an expression of shock and disgust, while her fingers curled around Sulenera’s elbow painfully, halting her from going any further.

“You heard me.”

“You’ve officially lost it.”  

“You don’t have to accompany me Sera,” Sulenera shrugged, twisting out of Sera’s grip. “In fact, you probably shouldn’t. I always meet with him alone, he might not...appreciate being surprised.”  She turned away from her, darting further along the shadows of the subway tunnel, scanning the wall for another elven rune.

“Fat chance. The last time ya met with him he broke yer nose,” Sera said, keeping up.

“On accident! And it’s not like he left me like that. I told you he healed me,” Sulenera snapped, regretting that she had said anything Sera about it in the first place. She subconsciously rubbed the bridge of her nose at the memory, “It’s what happens when you patrol the Ferelden’s territory and get ambushed.”

It really had been an accident. About a month ago, she and Fen’Harel had been investigating suspicious activity in the Ferelden sector of the fade, and got lost in a heated conversation. Neither of them remembered to check for the mabaris. They attacked out of nowhere taking both elves by surprise. Six howling hounds bounded from all angles, tearing at cloaks, pouncing on their backs. Fen’Harel whipped his staff around and clocked Sulenera in the face, knocking her off balance making her an easy target for one of the dogs. When he realized what he had done, Fen’Harel sent a blast of energy radiating outwards, knocking everything back a few yards. He fade stepped Sulenera out of immediate danger as she cast an ice glyph in their direction, freezing the dogs in place. She’d didn’t blame him though, he was so used to working alone, fighting alongside someone was probably a foreign concept to him.

She recalled how his fingers lingered over her nose as he cast a healing spell, flooding her senses with his mana. Sulenera couldn’t tell if the tingling sensation she had been experiencing was from his pressing touch or the spell he had cast. She shook her head, dispersing away the memory before she had time to blush.

She found the rune, and pressed into it with a bit of magic like before. It revealed a small alcove with several satchels stashed away in side. She grabbed the one with the Dragon inscribed on it, and resealed the hole in the wall. She continued to slink down the subway tunnel following its winding path until she reached the next station. She crept around the corner, sticking the shadows cast by the florescent lighting in the station. She motioned for Sera to crouch by her near the edge of the platform.

“Now wot, we just wait’ere fer him to show up,” Sera asked, sliding into position next to her.

“No, we wait for the next train.”

They only had to wait a few more minutes before the next shuttle rumbled into the station. The doors opened with a loud clang and people exited slipping away up into the city. Sulenera readjusted the satchel on her shoulder and made her way to the edge of the last car. Reaching into the satchel, she dug out two canisters of spray paint, one black and one sickly shade of green. They were her favorites to use when inscribing her own sigil.

“Yer just gonna deck the back of a subway car!?” Sera burst out in disbelief.

“What better way to send a message than with a moving target?”

Sera mumbled something about 'only using graffiti for pranks' under her breath before taking watch. With a steady, but fast hand Sulenera began to lay out her insignia. It was well known within the undercity that in order to communicate between gangs, members would use graffitied symbols. It was the easiest way to get someone’s attention when dispersed in different sectors of the city, and an added side benefit was that it pissed off the Chantry; officials had to take extra time to clean it off. Often, gangs would meet up and deface property together to publicly show their discontent with the latest Chantry policies, and for some lighthearted fun.

For Sulenera, it was her main method of communication with the Dread Wolf. It was how they signaled each other when news was developing or new secrets needed to be shared. She needed him to know that she intended to meet with him, so began the process of entwining their sigils together.

Her insignia was an elegant dragon’s head facing right, jaws agape, breathing fire. The drastic lines that comprised the flames were her favorite to draw besides the horns, of course, that matched her own in her armor. The main color of her sigil was black, with added shades of poison green for emphasis in the flames. She placed the wolf the left side, mimicking Fen’Harel’s sigil as best she could, having some of the lines from his sigil purposefully intertwine with hers.

“Wot if someone looks over, and see ya sprayin’away,” Sera quipped incredulously.

Sulenera shot her a dark look, “If you keep your voice down, we won’t have a problem.”

She stuck her tongue out at Sulenera, but lowered her voice before adding, “How d’you know he’ll see it?

“Oh, he’ll be looking for it,” Sulenera said confidently.

Sulenera knew, without a doubt, Fen’Harel would be hunting for her sign. The thought of him actively seeking her out brought her guilty satisfaction. She would tell no one just how much she enjoyed meeting with him, or that she relished in the fact that she had somehow earned some semblance of respect from him. Many gangs, elven, shemlen, dwarven, and qunari alike tried to appeal to the Dread Wolf, to gain his favor in hopes he would spare them from interrupting their agendas. It never worked and often back fired, ensuring his intervention. It was dangerous spending time with him yes, but that made it all the more exciting.

“Can I have these when yer done?” A mischievous glint appeared in Sera’s eyes.

Sulenera tossed the canister of black spray paint to Sera who caught it reflexively. She didn’t want to know what Sera planned on doing with the spray paint, but her imagination granted her a few ideas. Sulenera just had to add the finishing touches of green to complete the insignias.  She looked over it to scrutinize her handiwork. Her line art was  _good_  and everyone in the Pantheon was jealous of her. But she couldn’t help but feel a competitive edge when it came to the Dread Wolf. His sigil was always perfect. Sulenera could always find in her art one line that was a little off, a little misshapen, or a little too close to another. Whenever she had the chance to view the Fen’Harel’s work up close she couldn’t help but feel outclassed. As a finishing touch, she energized the sigils with a simple spell to make them glow.

“Will he know where to meet you?”

“Mhm,” She hummed an affirmative, handing off the satchel and canister of green paint into Sera’s outstretched hands.

Sulenera did not want to confess to Sera or anyone for that matter, that she and Fen’Harel had a designated spot they would meet, the location was privy only to the two of them. Another reason she suddenly wished Sera would split off from her. They retreated back into the shadows as the grating sound of the train’s breaks being released echoed throughout the station.

“Sera, I think you should return home,” Sulenera stated while watching her glowing sigil grow smaller and smaller as the subway train sped away out of sight.

“And leave you to waltz into the lair of Mister-Phwoar-I’m-the Dread-Wolf-I’ll-eatchu-in your sleep-and-give you nightmares and shite’ by yourself?”

“He doesn’t eat people or bring nightmares…I doubt even the fabled God did that Sera. He’s just an avid activist fighting against the injustices of the corrupt system.”

“Got that line memorized don’tchu. Is that how he describes himself?”

“No. That’s how I see him, he fights for the same reasons I do, that’s all.”

“You do more than fight, you steal shite from the Chantry.”

“Shit that rightfully belongs to the Elves,” Sulenera stated with a note of finality.

Sera made farting noise with her tongue that bounced off the walls of the subway tunnel, ending that part of their conversation. Once the train disappeared, Sulenera bolted down the track. They continued for a few minutes like that until Sulenera halted in front of another jagged hole in the side of the tunnel, Sera bumping into her back.

“Sera, you do realize I’m meeting him in the fade.”

Sera looked into yet another crevice, this one wider, even more menacing that the previous. The dank presence of magic was still strongly detectable. It rolled out of fissure in waves, churning her stomach.

“D’ya hafta meet him in there?” There was no mistaking the quiver in her voice.

“The fade is his domain. He’s ruled there far longer than any other gang, where else would I meet him?” Sulenera said, as if it was an obvious assumption.

“A bar. The market. The bloody zoo, I don’t care! Anywhere but here.”

Sulenera gave her a disbelieving stare.

“Was worth a shot,” Sera mumbled. 

“This is not the first nor the last time I’ll convene with the Dread Wolf. I appreciate the concern, but I think its best I go alone.”

Sulenera shifted her weight, debating whether or not she should reach out to reassure her friend that everything would be fine, or if she should turn to go. Sera’s paranoid expression and fearful glances between her and the crevice made the decision for Sulenera. She reached out and gave the rogue’s arm a gentle squeeze, and released it quickly. Sulenera wasn’t the most affectionate person, but she was working on that.

“Go home, stay off the streets tonight, okay?”

“Nah, I gotta check with the Jennies before I do that, but after. See you there, yeah?” She began backing away from the threatening abyss as Sulenera dipped into it once more.

 

* * *

 

 

Sulenera wove her way through several more splits in the rock walls that lined the passageways of the fade. The pattern of twists and turns that led to their meeting spot was designed like a maze, created to throw off anyone who might try to follow either of them. Normally, it would have taken quite a bit of time to work through but with the help of her veilfire illuminating the rune markers that Fen’Harel placed for her, she was able to maneuver her quite rapidly to their meeting grounds. She was about to make the last turn when someone collided with her.

“Ah!” A voice cried out.

It came from a young boy, whose pale locks of hair had fallen into his bright eyes, illuminated by the green flames dancing in Sulenera’s palm. Tattered, dirty clothes and an oversized hat were the only possessions on him besides the pair of glinting daggers he had drawn. Sulenera erected a barrier and slipped her free hand behind her back to graze over a hidden sword hilt, getting ready to draw it if need be.

“You can see me,” the stranger gasped.

“Of course I can, how did you get here!?” Sulenera demanded with a cold tone, allowing ice to begin snaking its way across the stone floor and walls surrounding them. No one should have known about this passageway.

“You’re her.” The young man tilted his head to the side, backing down from his defensive stance. “The one he’s expecting.”

“How did you…? Does Fen’Harel know you’re here?”

“The woman of ice and venom,” he said, ignoring Sulenera’s question entirely, “Hiding behind high walls, always raised, impenetrable, like a glaciers.” His voice kept chanting, “Numb the feelings, numb the guilt, numb the pain. No one can hurt me if I don’t let them in. Nothing can hurt me, ever again, if I---“

Sulenera slammed the boy against the now frozen wall of the tunnel. “ _Stop. That,_ ” she hissed.

Suddenly, what sounded like a chorus of lilting voices echoed out from left, “Leave him be, Da’len.”

Sulenera’s attention snapped from the young man she had pinned, to the cavern’s entrance at the sound.

 _Fen’Harel_.

When she looked back, the boy had vanished; leaving her hand pressed against the cold ice her aura had created against the wall. She composed herself; retracting her barrier and brushing off the frost that had crept over her cloak before sauntering bitterly through the entrance. The words of Fen’Harel’s chiding command were still echoing in the cavern,  _Da’len, Da’len, Da’len_  to the mild annoyance of Sulenera. Sulenera surveyed the familiar expanse before her.

Veilfire torches were lit periodically along the far wall, throwing a greenish cast on the floor that danced in tandem with the flames’ shadows. On the opposite side of the enclosure there was a railing made of marble, putting a physical blockade between the edge of the room and the mouth of a wide pit.

She called out to the nothingness, “You have quite a lot of explaining to do, dear Dread Wolf.”

She felt his presence before she saw him. His aura swept over her body, causing her to shudder at the alarming sensation spreading through her limbs. The best way to describe what she was feeling was, ironically, dread. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise as goosebumps broke out along her flesh. It rolled forth in waves from along the far wall of the room. Sulenera directed her attention there, scanning the void for any sign of movement. And then from the corner of her eye she saw it; the first glowing sets of eyes. Blue flames nearly as bright as the veil fire that lined the walls begin blinking into view, to be followed by more until six glowing embers were staring her down from the blackness.

From the shadows emerged a man, hidden behind the menacing mask of a partial wolf skull. The pure white bone covered a majority of the man’s face leaving only his lips and chin visible. Slim, pointed ears slipped through slits in the hood that had been drawn up. Though she had met him numerous times before, Sulenera still felt that foreboding sense of chilling panic as he approached. She was aware that he purposely cast his aura to mess with the minds of those he met with, hers was no exception. After a conversation, she couldn’t quite remember the incantations of his voice, mannerisms, or anything about his face; save the wolf mask and it’s multiple, daunting eyes. A defense mechanism, he claimed, to protect his identity. After all, he was one of the most infamous people in all of Thedas, both below and on the surface. His simple black cloak obscured most of his movements as he glided over to meet Sulenera in the middle of the room.

“I imagine you must have many questions.”

His voice was enticing; she could feel it thrumming in the back of her mind, echoing her head. It sounded as if there were several of him speaking at once, voice fading and swelling simultaneously.

Sulenera’s lips quirked up at the edges but her smile didn’t reach her eyes, “You don’t say.”

“I will answer as many as I am able. There is not much time.”

Despite his claim of urgency, that didn’t stop her from voicing her curiosity about the strange visitor. “Who was that boy and what was he doing here?”

“He’s…” Fen’Harel paused for a moment, removing his hands from within in cloak to cross his arms as searched for the right word.

“A friendly acquaintance,” he finished cryptically. They moved in sync to stand near the edge of the chasm, where Sulenera chose to lean against the marble railing so she could peer over the edge. Fen’Harel remained standing.

“So a friend?” Sulenera couldn’t hide her skeptical tone.

“Yes, that is what one would call an individual with whom you exchange polite conversation with, presumably.”

“I didn’t realize there was anyone you would consider friend.”

“By what then should I call you?”

“Oh, I’m flattered," she drawled, "I didn’t realize you held me in that high of regard.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, ” Sulenera stated bluntly, letting a bit of anger flash as she turned to face him.  “Considering that friends who think highly of each other don’t go around alerting the entire metropolis of Thedas of their intended targets.”

“Ah. But it was for the best.” His glowing eyes bored into hers as he stepped closer; peering down but breath away, sending a shiver down Sulenera’s spine. Between having all six of his eyes fixedly gazing upon her, his strange demanding voices whispering in her head, and his close proximity; it was enough to make her stomach flip.

“Listen to me carefully. Do not move tonight, call off your raid. There are complications, a new threat has emerged. One you should not involve yourself or your order in.”

“So your sigil was a warning?”

“Indeed.” He pulled away, clasping his hands behind his back, “I was under the impression the Pantheon would understand a marking as simple as one I placed the surface building, to stay away.” His voice flared with annoyance, and a hint of ire.

“What is so dangerous that you don’t think the Pantheon can handle?” Sulenera demanded, slightly offended.

“I do not wish to share this information, Da’len. It is…complicated.”

“You can’t just lure me here to tell me some complex riddle and then demand that I do nothing!” her voice echoed off the stone.

“I did no such thing you, came here because you desired to see me.”

Sulenera gave an exasperated huff, and tore her gaze from his burning blue eyes. She had wanted to see him, and was embarrassed that he knew it. It had been just about a month since they last spoke. She felt her ears heat up and thanked the creators she had kept her hair down to cover the tips.

“While that may be partially true, it doesn’t deter me from my duty. I need to know what is going to happen at the museum, our people are at risk here.

Fen’Harel flinched slightly, “ _Your_  people are not the only ones interested in procuring the artifact.”

“They could be yours too if---What!?” It took Sulenera a second to register what he had said.

“Another faction is coming into play, they intend to steal the orb. This new syndicate you do not want to involve yourself with, nor any member of any order of the Pantheon for that matter.”

“Another gang is trying to move on our territory? Then it is our right to defend our query. Simple as that! Why didn’t you inform us sooner? How long were you going to keep this to yourself!” Throwing her hands up in an exasperated gesture.

“It’s more complicated than that, I would have kept this from surfacing at all had it not posed a vital threat to you. But this new order, they are moving faster than I had anticipated, and they are nothing like you have encountered previously.”

“All the more reason to tell me! This concerns us directly!” Sulenera said, doing nothing to shield her frustration. When he did not react she huffed loudly and took a small step backwards taking a deep breath.“We could have helped you,” she added in a quieter tone when she was calm.

“No.” He stated simply and turned away from her. “Head my warning,  _Mythal_.” His voices urged coolly, stroking the deep recesses of her skull in an attempt to draw her focus. She fought against it, letting the comfort of her winter magic shake his aura from her mind.

“I cannot make that promise, as the Pantheon has chosen to move, would still move regardless.”

Fen’Harel’s glowing eyes flashed red with anger, and he began pacing in his haste.

She continued, following him away from the edge, “Your voice carries little weight in swaying Elgar’nan from his purpose since you are not a member of the Pantheon, though the offer still stands.”

Fen’Harel stopped pacing at the mention of the invitation. He had declined Mythal’s offer several times. Conspiring with the Pantheon had proven time and time again to be a horrible idea. In his eyes, trying to coordinate with seven pious, hotheaded, foolish, entitled Elven gang leaders was not something Fen’Harel was willing to do. Though the gesture was touching, he much preferred to work with Mythal alone. She was the most reasonable and to his surprise, wise. Though tonight she was proving to be most difficult.

“My answer has not changed.”

A thundering noise from the surface interrupted their conversation.  The two elves snapped their heads up in high alert. A second wave echoed throughout the cavern, loosening a few rocks from the ceiling. Pieces of stone began raining down upon them.

“Fenedhis, no!” Fen’Harel cried out, dodging a particularly large chunk of the free falling rock.

“An explosion? What the hell is going on?!” Sulenera bellowed over the growing rumble.

“This should not be happening, not now. It’s too early!” His enraged voices were roaring in her mind, blocking out all sounds of the explosions occuring above. “Return to the Crossroads, and stay there!” He ordered with an authoritative tone.

“Fen’Harel answer me!”

Sulenera reached out to grab his arm but he expertly maneuvered his way out of her grasp as he tore off through the crevice the end of the hall.

“ _Shit_ ,” she said breathlessly.

It only took Sulenera have a second to gather her bearings and tear off after him. She sprinted towards the exit, slipping her hand into her back pocket and retrieving her phone. She could see Fen’Harel running in the distance, paying close attention to when he veered into another passage way. She had to keep up with him. She glanced down the lit up screen for half a second, scrolling through her contacts until she landed on the name of her second in command. She lifted the phone to her ear when the line connected.

“Keela report!” Sulenera could hear on the other end of the line the distinctive shouts of fighting, spells being cast, and the cries that came along with being ambushed. “Keela!”

“They’re everywhere, Creators, there’s too many! Get here now! We’re being over--!”

The line went dead.

Fear and fury began coiling their way into Sulenera’s chest at the desperate plea her second had cried out. Sulenera could feel the ice creeping alongside her, racing over the walls in the tunnel she was chasing Fen’Harel through. She picked up her speed, gaining on him with a renewed sense of purpose. Her daughters were in danger and there was nothing going to stop her from reaching them; not this new threat, not even the Dread Wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven:
> 
> Da'len-child
> 
> Shits about to hit the fan! :)


	3. Into the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Translations
> 
> Enasal-Joy in relief  
> Sahlin-Now  
> M’ane eth!- You’re safe  
> Durlahn- Quiet  
> Eolasem- Understood

Sulenera exited the subway and out on the surface a few feet behind Fen’harel. They had emerged onto a desecrated street about a block away from the Pantheon’s intended target, the Temple of Sacred Arts. Pillars of smoke rose from infernos that were blocking off strategic sectors of the surrounding streets, effectively quarantining the museum from outside help.

 _Someone thoroughly planned this_ , Sulenera thought, scrambling over a car that had been flipped during the explosion, hot on Fen’Harel’s tail.

She could hear the shouts of Templars attempting to break past the walls of flame, but the fires were burning too intensely to pass through. Out of the corner of her eye and through breaks in the fire she saw that the insignia plastered on their uniforms were not those of the Templar Order.

Instead of a blazing sword that was customary of the government Chantry forces, the people attempting to disrupt the flames bore the crest of an eye in front of a bursting sun etched into their vests.  She knew recognized the symbol from somewhere, but dodging the fallen concrete and steel debris left over from the explosions was keeping her mind occupied.

Fen’harel loped up the marble stairs leading up to the entrance of the museum, blasting his way through the fighting that had broken out there, effectively taking out three assailants. He clearly was on a mission. Sulenera dodged a hostile energy barrage from one of the strangely dressed spellbinders as she skipped steps, watching her wolf slip out of her sight through the glass doors.

The man attacking her was dressed in the most peculiar attire she had ever seen, and she had seen some shit. Gang attire came in all varieties. Some gangs preferred to go over the top when it came to their armor, such as the Orlesians and their ridiculously outlandish metal lion masks and purple tinted leg and arm bracers embroidered with golden silks; or the Pantheon whose armor reflected the Gods they represented. Others preferred more minimalistic dressage like the Fereldens with their plain fur and leather, or like Fen’Harel and his simple wolf bone mask and ominous black cloak. Though each gang was diverse in appearance, they all had one thing in common: stubborn pride in appearances.

The mage before her was sporting a bright white mask with slanted slits for eyes and a helmet with elongated spikes. The stylized velvet robe he donned had such dramatic flair, it practically screamed ancient Tevinter. She took notice that all of the hostile forces were dressed in the same manner.

Sulenera reached for the metal staff grip at her side and sent a pulse of mana through it. It came to life at her urging, growing to the full length of a stave in seconds. With one fluid sweep she summoned ice, trapping several of the strangely dressed zealots, including the one advancing on her in a glacial wall.

Sulenera could see Elgar’nan and his sons alongside Sylaise and her forces at the far end of the landing platform, keeping most of the stranger gang members from entering the building. But they were slowing being overpowered as more of them came flooding from an unblocked subway entrance. At the top of the stairs, sniping enemies off Elgar’nan’s back was the youngest of her daughters.

“Danyla! Behind you!” Sulenera bellowed.

Danyla ducked out of the way just in time as Sulenera fade stepped the last few feet to crash through the man barreling towards the younger elf.

“ _Enasal_ , you got here just in time!” came Danyal’s breathless thanks.

Sulenera whipped her staff around to shatter the warrior, sending chunks of frozen shards in every direction .

Sulenera spun on her. “What. happened.”

“Everything was fine, going to plan.” The rogue pushed her chestnut bangs out of her eyes, “June’s people snuck inside, disabled the wards. Andruil being Andruil had to lead the charge since you weren’t here, with Ghilan’nain of course, and then suddenly, WHAM!” Danyla animatedly threw her arms out in an explosive gesture, “Those masked freaks everywhere! Where they came from? Not a clue.” She shrugged, “ Who they are? Not a clue. Elgar’nan is kinda peeved though…mmm scratch that, hella. Hella peeved.”

Of course he was. He was going to be for days over this. And if they got out of this unscathed, Sulenera knew it was going to be her job for the next week to prevent him from having a meltdown. She groaned internally.

“Tell him I said to retreat and regroup. The Templars will be here any second and those fires won’t take them long to nullify.” Sulenera glanced back over her shoulder at the infernos, she could hear Templar sirens growing louder with each passing heartbeat. Those fires were the only things separating them all from Tranquility and life sentences. “It’s not worth getting arrested tonight.”

“Hah, I’m not afraid of Templars.” Danyla barked out in laughter, spinning an arrow between her fingers, “If anyone one of those damn fools dares to touch me my face will be the last thing they see.”

She strung her bow and effectively shot one of strange hostiles clambering towards them clean through his left eye.

“Nyla, _sahlin_.” Sulenera said sternly, giving the teenager a leveling look.

“Alright, alright, retreat and fight another day.” Danyla said, backing up and raising her hands in surrendering motion, “Off to piss off Elgar’nan, even more than he already is. If he locks me in an Eluvian, I blame you!”

She withdrew a smoke grenade from her vest and tossed it down the platform at the warring parties, obscuring the entire landing in thick black clouds.

Sulenera sighed and turned her attention to the entrance. She knew Elgar’nan would do no such thing, Danyla was his half-sister.

She pushed her way through the reflective doors into a grand foyer, its high vaulted glass ceilings reflected the on-going slaughter on its marble floors. A beautiful multi-tiered fountain stood as the center piece, running red from the carnage being rained upon it. Sulenera reached behind her and closed her fingers over the hilt of her spirit blade, drawing it forth and launching herself into the war waging in the lofty hall.

To Sulenera’s immense relief, several of her daughters were also engaged in combat inside, appearing no worse for wear.  Her second in command stood on the second tier of the dazzling fountain, her arms raised in benediction, summoning a firestorm to obliterate a new wave of the foreign gang members spilling in from the Modern Art Wing on the right.  Keela’s silken black hair flared around her in the gusts of wind whipped up from her spell, flames still licking over her finger tips.

 An enraged cry rang throughout the foyer as another one of her daughters, Terrwyn, launched herself at the straggling warriors keeling over in pain from their third degree burns. She and Sulenera ended their misery mercifully with their spirit blades.

“About time!” Keela shouted from a top her perch on the fountain, throwing a fireball at the only remaining warrior stubbornly trying to flee the room.

 “ _M’ane eth_! Your line went dead, I thought..” Sulenera trailed off as she watched Keela hop from the second tier to the first, plunging her hand into the bloodied water.

She fished out her phone, and dangled it from her finger tips with her lips turned down in a sour expression. “Well you see, Terrwyn here can’t aim under pressure.”

Terrwyn’s bright yellow eyes flashed in disbelief, “How is this my fault!? How was I supposed to know you decided to scale the blighted center piece at that exact second?!”

“Who throws a body at the fountain?”

“Who the hell stands on a fountain?”

“The vantage point was too perfect to give up!”

“You’re tall enough as it is, you don’t need the extra height from a vantage point! If anything, I do!” The shorter elf huffed, both of them stubbornly glaring at each other. The situation had everyone’s nerves running wild.

“ _Durhlan_! It ceases to matter!” Sulenera raised her hand to silence the two of them.

“Thankfully, both of you are unharmed,” Relief slipped into Sulenera’s voice as she surveyed her daughters for any possible lingering injuries, “Report, where has everyone else gone?”

“The rest of our daughters joined June’s forces in the Ancient Andrastian Exhibit, through Modern Art,” Keela said with a nod in the direction of the right wing before hopping off the last tier. She strode over to stand beside Sulenera, “The Wolf went that way too.”

“Bastard disrupted the whole fight in here with a massive mind blast so he could run past us.” Terrwyn said as an aside, readjusting the black curls that had fallen lose from their bindings back into a tight ponytail.

“I imagine that’s as far as Andruil and Ghilan’nain’s forces got t --” Sulenera was cut off by a roar echoing from somewhere off in the right wing.

All three of them snapped their heads in the direction of the sound. Sulenera was the first to move, flanked quickly by her daughters within seconds. Together they bolted out of the foyer and through Modern Art wing, cutting down stragglers in their way.

It was utter madness in the Andrastian exhibit; Sulenera didn’t know where to look first.

In one corner, the rest of Sulenera’s daughters were clashing head on with a group of warriors, smashing everything in sight.

Fen’Harel stood with June and his agents in the opposite corner as they dueled with hostile mages,sparks and ice from their spells ricocheting in every direction

In the center of the room Andruil was bellowing at the top of her lungs as her hunters attempted to take down one of the vilest creatures Sulenera had ever laid eyes upon. The humanoid thing was enormous; red crystals were sharply protruding through its warped armor, and out of its back at the most gruesome of angles. Its face was contorted in an expression of rage and pain, its eyes as well as the veins beneath its skin leading up to its them were glowing red. It might have been human once, but the thing before her now was far from it.

 Arrows from the hunters had pierced its shoulder and thigh, but they didn’t appear to be slowing the monster down, at all. It swung its arms wildly, bludgeoning Ghilan’nain’s agents out of the way like flies. Ghilan’nain was bravely attempting to distract it with brightly burning barrages of energy; doing anything she could to keep its attention focused on her, guiding it away from her people, Andruil, and her hunters. .

Sulenera made eye contact with Ghilan’nain’s second in command, who was fending off three charging warriors from reaching her leade. Sulenera fade stepped to Aili’s side in an instant, covering her from an incoming blow the broad side of her spectral blade. The two knight enchanters danced around each other, slicing and lunging at their foes,  leaving them to bleed out from their fatal lacerations as they slumped down to their knees before them. 

“You know, I could really go for a glass of cider right about now,” Sulenera remarked over her shoulder, and down to her cousin.

 Aili breathlessly laughed, wiping away a splotch of blood from her neck before casting a barrier over the scattering hunters to her left. “Couldn’t we all?”

Sulenera turned her full attention on Fen’Harel from across the room as Aili sped off towards the hunters.

“Terrwyn, keep those zealots off Aili,” Sulenera called out, reigniting her spectral blade as she strode towards Fen’Harel, “Keela, do Andruil a favor, and keep her from getting herself killed.”

“ _Eolasem_.”  She heard them call out as they raced off to defend their charges.

Where ever Fen’Harel tried to move in the exhibit, June and his forces followed like a shadow. Sulenera stifled an amused expression that was tugging at her corners of her mouth as she rolled out of the way to avoid the hostile magic being thrown about. 

He would not escape her so easily this time. She rushed forward, slicing through an archer with his sights aimed on the Dread Wolf. Fen’Harel whipped around just as Sulenera slammed him into the wall, sending a painting of Andraste and Shartan shattering onto the floor.

“You knew this would happen.” She hissed, amusement fading away as her green eyes iced over, “You knew! Why didn’t you tell me?” She tightened her grip on his cloak, preparing to slam him again but she never got the chance.

Sulenera felt herself being moved, whipped around so that it was now her back pressed into the wall. Her spectral blade hilt knocked her from hand as Fen’Harel grabbed her wrist and thrust it above her head. He used as his left forearm to shove against her stomach to pin her there. He lowered his mask covered face down to her level.

“I did. My warning to stay away should have sufficed. ” His eerie choir of lilting voices replied.

“Your display wasn’t good enough!” Sulenera growled, struggling against him and his aura. “You should have come to the Crossroads weeks ago!”

“As if _your Pantheon_ would have taken a verbal warning about the Venatori from me seriously.” He pressed closer, easily keeping her pinned in place, “If I had told you they were going to raid your mission, it only would have amplified the desire of your _lethallin_ to see it through.”

“They might not have listened at first, but I would have!” She thrashed once more, “You should have told me about this… _Venatori_ threat sooner!” 

She broke away from his six blazing eyes for a second to steal a glimpse at a figure rapidly approaching them.

“Behind--!”

Fen’Harel released her wrist immediately. Without so much as a backwards glance, he threw his hand behind him sending a blast of energy at the oncoming warrior. The agent was propelled back into the fray and quickly beaten to a pulp by Terrwyn.

“The threat was mine to deal with,” He continued as if nothing happened, his voices prickling along the base of her skull, “Including you would have only led to bloodshed. And I see that I was, unfortunately, correct. There was no need for your involvement, this carnage could have been avoided.”

“No need? Do you hear yourself when you talk sometimes? You would have been forced to face down this,” she gestured wildly with her now freed hand at the pandemonium behind them. “Alone?!”

He looked down, avoiding her penetrative glare. “I had plans.”

“Given time, the Pantheon could have prepared better for this. You should have trusted me with your plans, when have I ever worked against you?!”

Sulenera studied him, his body language was tense, defensive, and his lips were pulled taught. His aura wavered. He was still hiding something.

 “What else aren’t you telling me.”

Before he could answer, a chorus of yelps and three loud crashes sounded in the immediate vicinity to their right, causing both of them to flinch at the noise. Fen’Harel dropped his unnerving aura entirely and erected a barrier over them. He moved into a protective stance around Sulenera, keeping her at a distance from whatever had tossed into the Ancient Templar Armor display.

“Oh don’t mind us,” came an exasperated snark from pile of rubble.

Sulenera relaxed marginally into Fen’Harel and rolled her eyes. _June_.

Two women clamored out of the heap, swaying slightly as they regained their balance. They couldn’t have been more opposite.  The only similarity the women shared were their vallaslin, honoring the God of Craft.  The pale skinned raven haired rogue Sulenera immediately recognized June’s second, Dahlia. She began purposefully kicking away chunks of armor in an attempt to unearth her leader from the rack of metal suits he had been thrown into.

The other woman Sulenera didn’t recognize was groaning, running deft fingers through her blood splattered white blonde hair.

“Fiva!” Dahlia commanded.

The blonde woman immediately stopped fixing her hair and helped Dahlia move pieces of armor. June scrambled up, taking Dahlia’s extended hand for support.

“By all means, continue to whisper sweet nothings to each other in the thick of battle while the rest of us bleed out, it lightens the mood,” June said, flashing a crooked smile before slipping into stealth and disappearing from sight.

The woman named Fiva followed the suit.

Dahlia however held back, she shot Fen’harel and Sulenera a suggestive look. Dark mischief sparked in her eyes as she glanced between the two of them. She winked and faded out of sight.

It was only then Sulenera noticed how entwined she was with Fen’Harel, how he was shielding her with his body. His arm that had previously been pinning her was now wrapped protectively around her waist, pulling her flush against him. When he turned to face her again she noticed how close in proximity he was to her face, enjoying the way his breath danced across her lips.

She felt a heated blush color her cheeks as she realized she would have only had to lean in a fraction of an inch to graze her own across his beneath the mask of bone. He must have come to the same conclusion at the same moment she did, for he cleared his throat and immediately increased the distance between them, retracting his arm from her torso.

“Ignore them, back to my question.” Sulenera recovered, running her fingers over her armor and adjusting her cloak while trying to quell the rush she felt from being pressed so close to his figure. Damn her better judgement.

Six blue burning eyes surveyed her carefully. He was visibly torn between talking and bolting.

“The artifact you seek,” he began after a few beats, “The orb….it’s more than a mere forgotten relic.”

“I figured. Judging by the fact we’re facing down an army here, it’s clearly more valuable than we anticipated…if not just a relic, what is it?” She inquired, throwing a few barriers over her daughters as they kept agents from reaching her conversation with Fen’Harel.

 “It is a foci, an ancient elven tool used for channeling magic. It’s been accumulating power, lying dormant for thousands of years. Waiting for its master comes to claim it. If it were to fall into the wrong hands, it the repercussions could be catastrophic.”

“And this ‘master’ just so happens to be the head of these Venatori, or…?” Sulenera said, attempting to fill in the blanks.

“No, though he aspires to be. We must not let him take the foci, it is of utmost importance. He must be stopped. You must understand.” He said, pleadingly.

 “If what you’re saying is true…“

“It is.” He stated with such conviction she had no choice but to believe him.

Sulenera could only imagine what a gang leader with this much influence already could do with something as powerful as Fen’Harel was implying the orb to be. Her thoughts then jumped to what Elgar’nan would do to the undercity with it. She clenched her jaw.

“Then—“

“Might I interrupt this lover’s quarrel again for a moment?” June interjected reappearing next Sulenera, exasperation ringing in his rising voice as blood trickled out of a deep gash on his forehead, “But, ah, _some assistance with these fucking abominations would be GREATLY APPRECIATED_.”

Sulenera directed her attention at the sudden appearance of two more blighted creatures that had burst straight through the wall of the adjacent exhibit, roaring in frenzied agony. Her daughters began the arduous process of taking the nearest one down. Ghilan’nain and Andruil were still busy dealing with the first one they stumbled upon, leaving the most recent creature to saunter towards Sulenera, June, and Fen’harel.

 “Go, stop him...” She conceded to Fen’Harel as she knelt down, keeping her eyes locked on the beast before her.

She grabbed her blade hilt off the marred marble floor and hooked it behind her back. Her staff grip replaced at her thigh. She wouldn’t need either of them for what she was about to do next.

Without looking at him she added, “…I’ll be right behind you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE thank you to everyone who enlisted their OC's to be gang members!!! :D
> 
> In order of appearance:
> 
> Keela-Jessicapendragon  
> Terrwyn- Hurricanginger  
> Aili- Lillotte17  
> Dahlia- Whosafraidofthebigbaddreadwolf  
> Fiva- Coryphy-tits
> 
> Also I apologize for the SUPER DELAYED update!! This chapter took ages to write and edit. (I also had my new semester start and adjusting back into that affected my writing.)
> 
> I had to split this chapter into two parts because it was sitting at well over 5100 words. This means there will be an update tomorrow though! :D <3


	4. Curiosity Kills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *this chapter has descriptions of violence and some descriptions of blood*

Sulenera gave herself over to the mana pooling inside her; she allowed it to spread throughout her limbs and ignite her every nerve, flooding her senses so that all the noise in the hall suddenly fell away. Submitting herself to the pull of lyrium coursing through her veins, she willed it to manipulate her form.

Keela, who had been observing the exchange between Fen’Harel and Sulenera from afar, watched as the Dread Wolf exited the hall and into a wing blocked off with caution tape, a giant “Off Limits: Elvhenan Exhibit Under Construction” sign hung haphazardly from the archway.

Keela’s eyes widened as she saw her lead drop to her knees as bright wisps of light began to swirl around her. Sulenera began to give off an ethereal golden glow as purple funnels of smoke began to coil around her body, engulfing her entirely as small tendrils crept out in all directions across the stone floor. June was still standing a few feet away focusing on the behemoth surging towards them. It only took a millisecond for Keela to register what Sulenera was about to do.

“SHE’S SHIFTING, MOVE!”

Keela fade stepped roughly into June, knocking him out of the way moments before a massive wyvern launched itself out from the violet mist, head-butting into the blighted creature. Together, both monsters crashed into a bronze statue of Andraste across the room.

“How is it that whenever I agree to work with Mythal, I always end up beneath one of her daughters?”

Keela’s face broke into a devious smirk as she pushed herself up off June, “Don’t lie, you like it.”

“I won’t deny, my view is spectacular.” He whispered flirtatiously.

Keela shoved him back down for good measure, the sly expression still stuck on her face.

The deep green hue of the wyvern’s scales glistened in the lowlighting as the wyvern circled around the prey she had taken down. Venom seeped from her parted jaws as she waited for the perfect moment to strike. Dahlia and Fiva raced forward from within the wyvern’s shadow, sleek blades bared. They slashed at fallen creature’s flesh, leaving deep gashes across its chest and face before retreating back behind Sulenera’s shifted form.

The wyvern lunged forward with her talons extended; slamming into the creature’s shoulders to immobile it with sheer force of her weight. She rained her lethal poison from her open mouth down upon his gaping wounds. The acid seared through its flesh, burning it away until bone was bared and it was left writhing in pain. Its harrowing cries soon turned into strangled gurgles as it slowly ceased to convulse beneath her clutches.

A deafening scream pierced Sulenera’s ears, causing her to cock her head at the pitch. She whipped around to locate the origin of the sound, leaving the mangled mess behind her.

Again, the source was Andruil. But this time it was no war cry, it was one of pure torment. Her shrieking reached new decibels as the last remaining creature speared Ghilan’nain through the chest with the jagged spike of its claw.

The iridescent creature lifted Ghilan’nain’s struggling form off the floor, letting gravity drive its spiked appendage deeper into her body. Her legs thrashed about uselessly several feet above the ground while her hands clutched at the monster’s spike lodged in her chest, gasping for air as blood bubbled from her lips. In one final act of desperation, Ghilan’nain withdrew a slender dagger from her bracer and jabbed the creature in the throat. It howled out pain, hurling her off to the side to land in crumpled heap by the far wall, unmoving.

“ _Ar tu na’din_!” Andruil blared at the top of her lungs

The huntress withdrew three enchanted arrows from the quiver at her back and simultaneously summoned her spectral blow into existence in her left hand. She knocked them and charged at the monster head on. Her arrows pierced up the behemoth’s chest and neck. She then summoned fire to her finger tips with a sweeping motion and clenched her hand into a fist, causing the arrows lodged in its flesh to explode. It stumbled backwards from the impact, teetering dangerously.

Sulenera felt the abrupt sensation of something climbing up her tail and rushing down the length of her back. Before she had the chance to turn her head Aili catapulted herself off her snout, spectral blade ignited. Sulenera retracted her mana, pulling it back in to center herself. She felt her talons and scales melt away, morphing back into her natural form.

Aili collided with the beast, driving in down onto the alabaster floor. In one graceful arc of her sword she decapitated the creature. Out of the corner of Sulenera’s eye, she saw Andruil racing towards Ghilan’nain.

“NO! DON’T TOUCH HER!”

Sulenera threw herself at Andruil, tackling her before she could reach her body. Andruil was making it extremely difficult for Sulenera to hold her back single handedly. Aili appeared moments later, sinking slowly to floor in front her of motionless leader.

“Get off me!” Andruil screamed in her ear as she thrashed violently.

Sulenera felt Andruil’s elbow connect with her jaw in a sharp uppercut, sending her reeling backwards. Keela and Terrwyn immediately grabbed Andruil’s torso and arms, preventing her from getting another attempt at snatching up Ghilan’nain again.

Sulenera recognized a distinct metallic flavor wash over her tongue. She turned her head and spat out a mouthful of blood to rid herself of the taste.

 _The one injury I get, and it’s from one of my own fucking allies_ , she thought incredulously.

Quickly, she wiped the warm, red liquid from her lips with the back of her hand and crawled back over to Aili.

Her cousin had carefully flipped Ghilan’nain onto her back using her spectral blade and was staring at her leader’s face with a distant expression swimming in her eyes. Tears threatened to spill from their bright amethyst pools, but never did, as she pushed away the tufts of white blonde curls that had fallen into disarray around her face.

Sulenera assessed the damage. Her heart stopped as her gaze lingered over her lethallan’s broken figure. The gash buried in Ghilan’nain’s chest was giving off a dim red glow in pulsating bursts, lighting up more of her veins as the red substance snaked its way up her throat. Her once bright blue eyes were now bloodshot, just like the eyes of the creature that had taken her life. It appeared to be an infection. The fact that it continued to spread even after the host was deceased was extremely concerning, and highly dangerous.

Ghilan’nain was gone; which meant it was time for her second to rise in her place. Sulenera turned to study Aili once more.

“It’s spreading...” Aili’s voice wavered slightly, “What infected that  _thing_ …it spread to her.”

“Whatever this contagion is, we need to contain it. It can’t leave this room Ghilan’nain.” Sulenera said quietly.

Aili didn’t respond, her eyes were still fixated on the woman lying before her. Andruil’s screams continued fill the hall behind them.

Sulenera touched Aili’s hand, and tried again.

“… _Ghilan’nain_.”

Aili snapped back to the present at the sound of her new title. She locked eyes with Sulenera as the reality of the situation sunk in.

“We need to burn her body.” Aili commanded , new found resolve washing away any remaining pain from her features as she spayed her hands several inches above the former Ghilan’nain’s chest.

Sulenera rose to her full height and faced the aftermath of their assault. Her stomach churned. As if on cue, cold magic began to numb her to the grisly sight that had befallen the exhibit. She welcomed the sensation of her mana sliding up the length of her spine like ice, steeling her nerves.

She abruptly recalled the boy she ran into the Fen’Harel’s labyrinth, and the words he had said to her.

_Numb the feelings, numb the guilt, numb the pain…_

How had he known her own defenses?She shook her head to clear the jarring memory. She would let herself feel the consequences of this mess later. For now she had Andruil to deal with.

“Don’t….don’t you dare! You …can’t” Andruil wailed, attempting to rip herself from Keela and Terrwyn’s iron hold.

“ _Ir abelas, lethallan_. There’s nothing more we can do.” Sulenera said softly, reaching out to placate the seething Huntress. She and Ghilan’nain had been close, closer than most in the Pantheon.

Andruil recoiled from her gesture.

“You cold-hearted bitch, you’re not sorry!” She spat at Sulenera, anger blazing in her eyes.

Sulenera’s hand flinched and dropped back to her side. Sometimes she wondered why she even continued to try with Andruil.

Flames laced themselves around Aili’s fingers as she gently cast them over her former leader, ignoring Andruil’s sickening screeches.

“This is Fen’Harel’s fault!” Andruil continued to lash out, her voice hoarse from screaming. “I’ll skin him alive for what he’s done.”

“Get her out of here, she shouldn’t watch this,” Sulenera calmly asserted, and gestured for Keela and Terrwyn to leave.

“No! I will have my revenge!” Andruil kneed Terrwyn in the stomach, causing her to loosen her grip as she doubled over. It was all Andruil needed to spin on Sulenera. “Mark my words, your Wolf will pay for this! I’ll kill him myself!”

Andruil wrenched herself out of Keela’s grip and took a swing at her face. But before her fist could connect, Dahlia stepped in between them and caught the blow in her own fist, twisting Andruil’s arm back painfully.

A cloud of teal dust was blown abruptly into Andruil’s face by Fiva, who had phased out of nowhere. Andruil inhaled sharply in shock and began to gasp back mouthfuls of air. Her eyes glazed over as the substance took effect, and she slumped into Keela once again.

Sulenera pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance, “I was really hoping to avoid that.”

“It worked last time she threatened to kill someone.” June shrugged; gore thickly flowing now from the wound on his head, caking half his face in blood. “By the same method, skinning them, I might add.”

“She does like to use that threat a lot.” Dahlia mused.

“Who was the last person she threatened with it again? That pretty blonde Orelsian woman?”

“Celene.” Fiva supplied, catching June and he swayed dangerously, allowing him to lean on her heavily. Dahlia hooked one of his arms over her shoulders to help him stand.

“Hah! That’s right! OH! Do you remember when she threatened the Hero—“

“Desist, June!” Sulenera demanded, though her tone was still laced with worry, “We can discuss who made it onto Andruil’s shit list later. You’ve lost too much blood to have this discussion. You need to leave.”

She turned her authoritative gaze to Terrwyn next, “Help the hunters deal with Andruil. Ghilan’nain and her agents will do one last sweep to evacuate any one left behind with Keela.”

“What about you?” Terrwyn questioned.

“I have unfinished business to attend to.”

With that, Sulenera whirled away from them, her crimson cape rippling around her as she stormed across the hall towards the Elvhenan Exhibit.

“I’m not leaving you.” Keela said defiantly, thrusting Andruil’s dazed figure out of Terrwyn’s grasp and at her hunters, and began to follow Sulenera. “If you think for one second I’m not coming with—“

Heavy thuds reverberated throughout the decimated hall, coming from the glass ceiling. Several pairs of eyes shot up to look at heavily armored figures carrying pulse rifles dropping down to land on the windowed roof from helicopters hovering over the museum.

“ _Fenedhis_!” Terrwyn bellowed. “The Templars are here!”

Chaos erupted again as all of the gang members entered a state of panicked frenzy. Templars just had that effect. Aili immediately took command, ushering her daughters to pick up the injured and beaten and take them out the museum.  

“Keela you’re in charge of the daughters while I finish this. Clear everyone out, there will be no more deaths tonight.”

“But—“

“No.” Sulenera said with finality.

“I have a solution!”

Sulenera and Keela snapped their heads at June, who was still clutching onto to Dahlia and Fiva.

“I would offer myself, but I’m quite useless at the moment.” He coughed back a laugh, “Take Dahlia, then Keela is free to lead and you’re not going in without support.” He turned his smoldering gaze to woman he just volunteered. “ _Ma fenor banal’ras_ , don’t try to miss me too much.”

Dahlia rolled her eyes sky high and gently dumped the rest of his weight onto Fiva. “Even in this state, you’re still full of it.” She groaned playfully.

Sulenera took a grating breath, “Fine. If it will get you to leave. Now go, all of you!”

Sulenera watched their retreating figures sprint out of the Andrastian exhibit, Aili and Keela’s commands eventually becoming nothing more than distant echoes as the Templars began drilling through the glass above. She turned on her heel and strode towards the Elvhenan wing.

Dahlia easily kept pace with Sulenera, gliding silently alongside her as they rapidly approached the off-limits sign. A marble staircase lay through the archway, leading down into what Sulenera assumed would be the first sector of the Elven wing. An eerie glimmer was radiating at the base of the stairs, its light flickering in slow waves.

“Dahlia, stay hidden and stay on your guard. I’m not sure what will be waiting for us below.” Sulenera breathed in a hushed tone as she descended the first few steps.

“Don’t worry about me, I thrive in the shadows. No one will ever see me coming.” Dahlia slipped into stealth and faded out of existence.

Sulenera swiftly cast a barrier and wrapped slender fingers around the cool, metal hilt of her spectral blade. She unhitched it from her belt with her right hand as she reached the last step.

The room that the stairwell emptied into was breath-taking. Fragments of frescos lined every wall in the exhibit; each piece was being slowly restored. Each wall had several panels, each representing a segment of a continuous story, though some parts were missing

Statues and sculptures were scattering around the room, waiting to be placed. Sulenera couldn’t make out what they were exactly, for white sheets had been thrown over to protect them while be stored. Ancient artifacts, jewelry, and clothing were locked behind see-through cases in rows, waiting to be moved into their designated sectors of the wing.

Four restored eluvians stood in a semi-circle along the far side of the room. The intricate metal weaving arcing along the glass at first glance depicted blossoming vines and howling wolves. Two of mirrors were activated, their glassy surfaces rippling with raw energy. But they weren’t the source of the luminous light.

The orb was.

It was hovering; suspended over a beautifully crafted dais inlaid with moonstones and emeralds. And it was glowing, bathing the room in sea green aurora. It hummed slightly, a hypnotizing sound coupled with the pulsating swells of light that danced over the archaic paintings.

“That’s it, isn’t it!?” Dahlia’s voice came from somewhere to Sulenera’s left.

Sulenera slowly nodded, barely breathing; transfixed upon the artifact before her. Fen’Harel was nowhere in sight, nor was there any sign of this other gang leader he had been so worked up about. Something was off.

Insatiable curiosity began to burn inside her.

_Why leave the orb defenseless?_

She approached cautiously, eyes enthralled by the ridges and grooves that had been etched onto its surface.

 _Is it truly_ that _powerful?_

She circled the dais, the way a predator would stalk its prey.

_And if it is, who can be trusted with it? There is no way I’m letting Elgar’nan near this ._

It began to give off small sparks of energy, each spark grew in intensity the closer she got to it. When she was less than a foot away, a more pressing question popped into her head.

_Can I trust Fen’Harel?_

A strong impulse to touch it suddenly overcame Sulenera, causing her curiosity about it to burn more fiercely. Sulenera reached out her left hand, ghosting it over the surface of the orb.

“Mythal, what are you  _doing_?!” Dahlia hissed.

She could feel immense power emanating from it. Arcs of green lighting jumped between her outstretch fingers and the blackened exterior of the orb, as if it was desperately trying to enclose her hand around it. She had to physically resist the pull of its magic. It was memorizing and slightly frightening at the same time.

She finally understood the extent of Fen’Harel’s distress.

“The orb is dangerous.” Her voice broke the unnerving silence that had settled in the exhibit, fingers still continuing to glide around the artifact without actually touching it. “The Pantheon would only abuse its power, they wouldn’t try to understand it.” She contemplated her options. “I’m going to take it, and find a way to destroy it.”

It was at that exact moment Fen’Harel came crashing through one of the eluvians. He rolled across the floor and collided into one of the display cases, knocking it over and spilling its contents across the floor. Glittering gems sprawled across the marble stone, showering that corner of the room in a cascade of colors when the light from the orb hit them.

“Fen’harel!” Sulenera retracted her hand from the orb, and as she did she could have sworn she heard an audible snap as the tiny bits of lightning broke the connection with her fingers.

She took a few quick steps around the dais in the direction the Dread Wolf before another figure walked out of the Eluvian. Sulenera froze as they made eye contact.

The man who sauntered out of the mirror was dressed like the Venatori she had been fighting a few minutes prior to entering the chamber below, but this man’s obsidian robes were more extravagant and modern than his counterparts. Sulenera narrowed her eyes and felt her aura freeze over, frost raced over the surface of the artifacts around her.

This was their lead.

Laced into the fabric of his armor were the same glowing red crystals that had grown out of the creature that killed the fallen Ghilan’nain. What was most unnerving about the man was perhaps was the half mask he wore that appeared to  grown out of his face, comprised of the same red crystalline rock. 

His face contorted in surprised anger, “Another intruder! Slay the elf!”

At his command three zealots uncloaked themselves from the shadows and rushed towards her.

Fen’Harel launched himself up off the floor to intercept the one running closest to him. Sulenera could see red smears across the white bone of his mask and blood dripping from the fingertips gripping his staff. He summoned his magic in his fist and punched down forcibly; snapping the energy around him and striking the agent so hard into the marble floor it cracked.

The crystalized man took the opportunity while Fen’Harel was distracted to call a firestorm. Balls of fire and molten rock began to repeatedly burst around Fen’harel, and the exhibit. By some miracle he managed to dodge every single one that exploded beside him. Once the Wolf reached lead Venatori, they began their grueling duel once more.

Sulenera ignited her blade and met the other charging zealots head on. Metal collided with magic in a flurry of parries and blows. Sulenera expertly blocked each slash of her opponent, dancing around and stepping through the fade to throw the agents off. Two blades sunk themselves deep into the throat of the agent closest to Sulenera as Dahlia materialized behind them. The rogue immediately roundhouse kicked a second agent that tried to sneak up on her. A sickeningly satisfying crunch sounded as her boot made contact with his skull.

An alarming amount of agents began to pour out of both activated Eluvians. Sulenera could barely keep track of where they all were as they scattered throughout the exhibit, surrounding her and her allies. At this rate with such little manpower, they would become hopelessly outnumbered in minutes. And she wasn’t about to wait for the Templars to come in and pull  _The Right_  on everyone and doom them all.

A risky idea dawned on Sulenera as she subdued another agent by impaling them on a spike of ice that from a glyph she had cast on the ground. She stole backwards glance at the foreboding artifact. It was still left undefended.

_If I could tap into that power…_

Sulenera surged through two more agents, effectively freezing them in place, before returning back to dais where the orb was waiting for her. Once more, she guided her hand over it, her heart pounding in her chest. She had no idea what was going to happen.

She hesitated.

A muffled cry ripped from Dahlia lips as she was thrown against one of the inactivated Eluvians. Her body slumped down the mirror as she was promptly flanked by hostile rogues, beyond Sulenera’s help.

_What other choice do I have?_

Lightning sparked over her left hand as she closed the distance between her palm and its surface. Excruciating pain tore up through her arm as large bolts entwined itself in her fingers and forearm at the contact. A swirling storm of electricity detonated around her, striking out at anything that tried to approach her.

Fen’Harel and his opponent stopped their fighting and watched in horror at the expanding shockwaves.

The last thing Sulenera remembered was one final blinding flash of green light before everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven Translations:  
> Ar tu na’din- I will kill you  
> Ir abelas, lethallan- I’m sorry, blood kin/clan mate (sister)  
> Fenedhis!- a common curse, equivalent to “shit” or “fuck”  
> Ma fenor banal’ras- my precious shadow
> 
> (also I apologize the update actually wasn't the next day, life got in the way of me posting x3 sorry!!)
> 
> hope you like cliff hangers!


	5. Interrogations

The first time Sulenera regained consciousness, she was overwhelmed by a deafening ring. It was so powerful it drowned out all her other senses. It resonated painfully within her mind, making her head vibrate with each pulsing wave of sound. She lifted her head, thinking it might alleviate the pressure building behind her temples—but she was wrong, _oh so wrong_. Her neck gave out and her head hit the soft surface it was laying on and lost consciousness once more.

The sound of her own sharp intake of breath awoke her the second time. It took her a moment to realize she was struggling to get enough air. She found a pair of bright hazel eyes swimming dangerously above her. The hum of voices buzzed in dissonance with the ringing in her ears as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The very act made her feel nauseous. A moan escaped from her before the darkness closed in on her once more.

A loud series of chirping beeps woke her the last time. A steady rhythm—an annoying one—that finally overpowered the ringing that was slowly fading away The sound was irritating and grating, much like an alarm clock. This time her eyes fluttered open slowly, testing the brightness of the room before fully taking the chance to glance around. It took only a few seconds to identify where she was. The unmistakable white walls, I.V drip hanging up over her head, and the scent of sterility that could be associated with only one place flooded her senses.

She was in a hospital.

Everything came back to her as if in slow motion. Her scream caught in her throat as her memories flooded her brain. The museum. The explosion. Her people.

_How long had she been out of it?_

She made to sit up, but met hard resistance. Glancing down, she discovered her right wrist was handcuffed to the hospital bed, binding her to the spot. She looked at her left and wished she wouldn’t have.

Her left arm from the elbow down was covered in bloodied bandages with tubes protruding from various areas. Within seconds she could sense that blood magic was sustaining it.

She screamed.

“Oh, I think she’s awake!”

Two dark haired women rushed into the room, immediately grabbing her shoulders in an attempt to subdue her. The woman with the wide hazel eyes was chanting something under her breath to sustain the blood magic tending to the wounded arm.

“Ma’am, you are in shock, you have survived a massive trauma,” the other elven woman said. This one had big blue eyes and a crooked nose littered with thick splotches of freckles. Loose tendrils escaped the high bun atop her head that held up a mass of curls. “listen to the sound of my voice. You are safe, my name is— “

“ _Safe_? Bullshit,” Sulenera interrupted and yanked her shoulder out of the freckle faced woman’s grip. She needed to get out of here and find out what happened, find her daughters, find Dahlia, find Fen’Harel, find--

“Ma’am, I can’t imagine what you are feeling right now but in order to help you, I need you to take deep breaths,” said the freckled elf as she pinned Sulenera down again—this time with a much stronger grip that was hard to resist, “my name is Elena and I am a doctor. You sustained massive injuries during an explosion. I am here to help you but you need to remain calm.”

The calming sound of the doctor’s voice made Sulenera want to listen, but there was too much on her mind and too many other things that needed to be taken care of before she could relax. She began to pool what was left of her mana. A look of surprise shot across the doctor’s face.

“Merrill—quick stop! She’s going to— “

In matter of seconds, slender purple pillars of smoke enveloped her body and she shifted. The hand cuff snapped as if made of chalk, crumbling away as her arm transformed into a large scaled wyvern claw. She tore herself out of the bed, leaving the two women, shredded cloth and an upturned mattress behind. Large gashes were left behind in the doorframe as she scrambled out into the hall.

Behind her she faintly heard the doctor make a call, “ _Cullen, she’s escaped. Heading down the ward.”_

Choosing the shift into a wyvern she found proved to be difficult, as the large girth of her body was hard to maneuver down the narrow hall of the ward. She took the turn at the end hard as was met with an electric shock that sapped all the mana from within her. She collapsed in a heap before a lean man with rugged golden hair and scarred lip. His brows were drawn down sharply and his eyes burned cold as he stared down at her. In his hand was a pointed staff, one she was all too familiar with.

“ _Templar_ ,” she hissed at him visciously as her vision wavered.

“I’ll let the Seeker know she’s awakened,” she heard him announce to someone before the world slipped away once more.

* * *

 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill her now.”

Figures hazily swam before her eyes as she awoke for the fourth time that day. She groggily shifted in the seat she had been place in. Cold metal bit at her wrists once more, and she realize she was confined to a chair, in what appeared to be an interrogation room. They hadn’t noticed she was coming to.

“Cassandra, we know nothing about her, she could have been an innocent bystander for all we know.”

She recognized that voice, it belonged to the doctor who had been treating her before her failed escape attempt.

“She’s an _unregistered_ mage,” the rugged Templar with the scar said bitterly, as if being a mage was reason enough to be sentenced, “her prints were not in our system.”

“An unregistered mage who was at the museum when it was destroyed. Everyone found inside was _dead_ ,” the first woman, Cassandra, said darkly in a thick accent, “ _Except. For Her.”_

Upon hearing those words, her skin burned as if she had been dropped into frozen lake and time had stopped, along with her heart. _It couldn’t be true_. Frost crept up the legs of chair she was seated on, and across the surface of the metal table that barred her from the people arguing in front of her.

“What do you mean, everyone was found dead?”

Sulenera watched with shallow satisfaction as every member of the group flinched at tone of her voice, low and lethal. She glared up at them through narrowed eyes doing her damned best to remain calm despite every nerve ending in her body screaming in protest.

Cassandra, the one with the accent, recovered first and crossed the room. “Explain this.”

She grabbed Sulenera’s left wrist and twisted it to face upwards, ripping off part of the bandage as she did. Pain shot up Sulenera’s forearm as Cassandra tightened her grasp and forced her to look at her palm. Burned into her flesh were ridges, much akin to a finger print, that gave off a sickly green glow. A pattern that matched the orb she had touched just before it exploded.

Sulenera remained silent as her mind worked out what had and what was happening to her.

Cassandra grew impatient with her silence and slammed her hand down onto the table, causing a fresh wave of pain.

“Cass, stop!” Elena moved in a flash and stepped between Cassandra and Sulenera. She gently cast a numbing spell on Sulenera’s palm, and the pain ebbed away, “take a walk.”

The woman named Cassandra paced away, talking quietly under her breath and shaking her head as if to fend off the anger.

“This would have been easier if you had not tried to run,” Elena whispered as she rewrapped her hand.

“You’re a mage,” Sulenera said, studying the woman as she finished up, “a blood mage on top of that, and yet they are not chaining you.”

“I am a doctor, and my methods are… unconventional yes. But because I came forward and registered with the Chantry I was given approval to continue practicing—under their watchful eye. While I admit it was not ideal at first, it’s as unbearable as you think. There are people up here who care--”

Sulenera recoiled from Elena’s touch. “You’ve been above ground for too long.”

“I could say the same about you and the undercity,” Elena replied, leaning against the table, “Let me finish. I just wanted to heal people, regardless of where they come from. I did my time in the fade, and I got out before I got killed. I did my time with the Chantry in their circle, and also got out before I got killed, Thanks to the Inquisition.” She nodded in the direction of Cassandra and the Templar. “The Inquisition rescued me from the Chantry’s grasp for which I am eternally grateful, and they let me practice freely, blood mage and all. I save lives. Like yours.”

Anger simmered beneath the surface of Sulenera’s composed veneer, but she held her tongue. The woman had a point, but she wasn’t sure quite what it was.

“The city is dangerous just like the undercity. But there are safe havens up here too, where we are treated justly and with equality. Just… think on it. That’s all I ask,” said Elena before she turned and walked back to Templar who was working on placating Cassandra.  She rolled her wrist reflexively with surprising ease to test out the healing spell as she watched the doctor close the distance.

Then Elena’s words hit her as she stared at her wrist.

It was no longer bound. The hand cuffs had silently unlocked themselves. She rolled her ankles, one at a time. Both unchained. Except for her left ankle, there was something clamped against her skin, but not attached to anything. She stole a glance and growled quietly. It was a tracing monitor.

They would follow her wherever she went.

At least until she figured a way to get it off.

While Elena distracted her captors, Sulenera used the moments alone to stock her mana. She was going to have one shot at this, and she wasn’t going to waste it. Thinking about her daughters possibly lying dead on the cold marble floor of the museum fueled her, with each passing moment her mana reserves grew, flooding her body with renewed energy.

_And the other members… Aili… Dahlia… Rasmir…had they survived?_

When the door was thrown open unexpectedly by the nurse that had been by her side earlier, Sulenera seized the opportunity. The mana surge made the entire room erupt with light, taking its occupants by surprise yet again. With a sharp sweep of her thick tail, she flipped the table and sent it flying towards the opposite wall, creating a second diversion.

Exiting the interrogation room, she found herself in a large hall, with several people milling about inside. Screams erupted once they noticed the very large reptile charging towards them at full speed, fangs barred. Heat slowly began to build around the ankle with the monitor, searing her scales. In swell, it gave off a burst that sucked the energy right from her bones. Before she could make it to one of the glass entry doors, she fell to her knees, back in her Elven form. She scrambled to her feet and took off anyway despite the burning sensation. She was so close to freedom when a figure from the other side opened the door and blocked her path.

A tall, lean elven man occupied the space, whose steel blue eyes bore a surprised expression at the commotion behind her she had caused. He met her gaze, and she tensed up. A shiver ran down the length of her spine as she narrowed her eyes at him, summoning swirling fists of ice, and poised to attack. Something in his eyes set off alarm bells in her mind.

His lips pulled into the hint of a smirk before he simply took a step back and held the door for her.

Confusion clouded her mind but not her body. She dropped the spell and bolted past him, sending him a hard look over her shoulder before she disappeared into the sunlight.

* * *

 

Solas watched as Mythal ran straight through an intersection without a second thought, accompanied by the sound of screeching tires echoed off the steps of the Inquisition Headquarters and whipped around a corner out of sight. He laughed to himself as he strode past the agents racing around him a flurry of chaos, yelling orders telling people to look for _an elven woman—no a wyvern—no a shapeshifter—_

“You… you just…let our suspect go,” Cullen, the ex-Templar barked at Solas, his brows pulled together in a look of pure disbelief.

“How was I supposed to know that particular woman was our suspect? She could have been anyone fleeing this place. It happens often enough.”

He was lying point blank. He knew _exactly_ who she was.

“Her scar!”

Solas sighed, “I would not fret over her disappearance. She will return.”

Cullen glared at him suspiciously, “How can you be so sure?”

“Obviously, she wants to be free, this elopement is only temporary,” Solas said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he walked alongside the ex-Templar, “All of her personal effects are still in our possession I would assume?”

“Yes,” Cullen said slowly.

“And her anklet is enchanted,” he pointed out, “We also possess her only means of successfully taking it off.”

It seemed to mollify Cullen somewhat.

“Well we aren’t going to just sit on our asses until she shows up again,” Cullen said after a beat, “Will you not help us hunt her down in the meantime?”

“No. I have… personal matters to attend to,” he stated simply and walked away from the irritated ex-Templar, who sighed loudly at his retreating figure and then turned to take command of the chaos still raining down within the hall.

 Once out of ear shot, Solas smirked and said to himself, “And I prefer to hunt alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmm guess who's back on her gang bullshiiit
> 
> This chapter has been sitting in my docs since Oct 2015.. over two years.
> 
> So here ya go! :) 
> 
> (I also have probably 1/3 of the next chapter written too)


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